


that time Felix choked on a cherry in front of a hottie

by TheSlayer47



Series: that time... (Dimilix Week 2021) [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Airports, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cherries are dangerous, Dimilix Week (Fire Emblem), Flirting, M/M, Meet-Cute, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:00:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29435721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSlayer47/pseuds/TheSlayer47
Summary: In the airport restaurant, Felix embarrasses himself in front of a blond, tattooed hottie. At least there’s no way the guy will be on the same plane.Right?
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Series: that time... (Dimilix Week 2021) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2165193
Comments: 11
Kudos: 42
Collections: 2021 Dimilix Week





	that time Felix choked on a cherry in front of a hottie

**Author's Note:**

> #2021DimilixWeek Day 1, prompt Valentine’s Day!

Can you smell freezer burn?

_Tch. No, of course not. Stupid question._

Felix glowers at his breakfast, offended how the grease from the (likely previously frozen) sausages mixed so thoroughly with the scrambled eggs. And, _for Serios sake,_ even into the wheat toast. _All I wanted was for the sausage to be on a separate plate. Didn’t realize that’d be such a difficult request._

But he isn’t going to be an asshole about it. One of the things he hates more than just dealing with the plate of grease is being the person who returns perfectly ~~good~~ edible food. Plus, it’s busy here, there are lots of doting couples who feel like flying somewhere on Valentine’s Day. 

“Thank you,” he mumbles to the waitress as she drops off his whiskey neat. A cocktail pick with a paper heart glued to the end is laying atop the rim of the glass, stabbed through a single maraschino cherry. Not two cherries, like the couple sitting at the table next to him have over their mimosas. _One._

So what if he’s going on vacation alone on Valentine’s Day? And who fucking cares if he’s having a whisky neat at six in the morning?! If it’s socially acceptable to drink a mimosa at breakfast- like the attractive blond man at the bar, and the couples surrounding him- then he can have hard liquor before the seven hour flight to Brigid to calm his nerves.

...It’s as if his best friend’s ears burn whenever he has an anxious thought. When his phone vibrates, Felix doesn't even need to glance at the name to know who it is.

**Ingrid:** It’s going to be a great flight!

 **Ingrid:** Send us plenty of pictures!

 **Ingrid:** You’ll have SO MUCH FUN! 😄

 **Ingrid:** How are you doing?

 **Felix:** Fine. 

**Felix:** 🥃

 **Ingrid:** 😐 it’s breakfast 

**Felix:** 🙄

Ingrid has been texting him since last night. Offering if she and Sylvain could give him a ride to the airport, if he packed his anxiety medication, to bring a light sweater _just in case_ it gets cold (on a tropical archipelago…), and continued on her special list of things she felt the need to check in with him about. Felix loves his friend, but she can be a bit _too_ motherly. When he doesn’t feel like being pressed about something, he just texts the eye roll emoji, which signals to her _“just… don’t.”_

And why the fuck did he decide his first solo vacation should be taking a plane somewhere when he is afraid of heights? No idea. 

Well, _actually..._ Felix entirely blames his fencing partner when they pushed him to do something spontaneous. _“I’m so sick of hearing you talk about how fucking bored of everything you are!”_ Byleth snapped one night a couple months back. And they had a point. So in that exact moment, he whipped out his iPhone and booked a flight.

He immediately regretted it the next day, but he wasn’t going to chicken shit out of it… And it’s a non-refundable ticket, so money like that isn’t going to be wasted.

At least he has a good view from his table in this crowded airport restaurant. The only other (seemingly) single person here is the guy at the bar, his shaggy blond hair in a half-ponytail. Stud, Felix decides to refer to him as, absentmindedly scratches at his scruffy beard before swiping his long bangs to the side. Felix is grateful for the gesture, now he can clearly see Stud’s ice blue eyes, which are glued to his book. This is what gives Felix the chance to stare openly, his gaze quickly flicking away at any sign of movement on the blond’s part. 

_Ah,_ now Felix has a pretty good idea that Stud is at least here by himself, for the waitress just set his second mimosa in front of him, and his drink also has only one cherry on his cocktail pick. _One._

The man nodded his thanks, peeling off his navy blue hoodie and _holy sweet Goddess Serios, he has a full sleeve tattoo._

 _Sexy. That’s… really sexy._ Peeking out from Stud’s short-sleeved white t-shirt is a roaring lion, with flowers beautifully interwoven in the mane, a broadsword striking over the center of its face. Lips parted- hardly noticing what he’s doing- Felix takes the pick off his glass and slowly slides his teeth along it, guiding the cherry into his mouth, rolling the sickeningly sweet fruit along his tongue. The art inked on Stud’s arm is an incredible balance of strong and powerful, while poetic. _Fuck, that’s hot._

His gaze flickers back to the blond’s face, and Felix abruptly inhales. Quite unfortunately, this makes the cherry fly to the back of his throat. After the longest second of coughing in his life, he’s finally freed from choking on a fucking cherry. 

_Eye contact. We made eye contact. Oh Goddess. He caught me staring at him._

_Run, ruuun._ Is Felix’s first instinct. Get the hell out of this restaurant ASAP and find something closer to his gate. He just needs to escape. But he still needs to pay. _Fuck_. 

So, Felix does what any other self-respecting, passive-aggressive Fhirdiad native does... 

...He keeps his head down, slaps his phone on the table, and prays to Sothis. _Please, do not start this vacation by being called out by a ridiculously attractive man. Sure, we'll never see each other again, but thanks to anxiety- I will think about this obsessively at first, then randomly when I least expect it for the rest of my life._

Bless it be, the waitress sees his debit card on the edge of the table and swipes it. When she drops the receipt off with a piece of heart-shaped chocolate, he squiggles his signature on the bottom line, grabs his carry on and darts the hell out of there- leaving the chocolate and Stud behind.

***

Felix’s heart is pounding a little faster as each minute ticks by.

Wiping his clammy palms on his pants, he shifts his weight side-to-side, listening intently for when it’s his turn to step onto the airplane. Which **_will not_ ** lead to his demise.

Each time an attendant speaks into the microphone, their voice barely audible over the chittering crowd as they drone who can board next, Felix’s ears perk and his brain whirs trying to decide if they mean _him…_ even though he knows he’s not elderly, active service, business class, or any other qualifying reason to be priority boarding.

_“Rows 19-23, you have permission to board. Rows 19-23.”_

For the 214th-ish time, Felix glances at the row number on his ticket. _23._ Rushing forward, he thrusts his ID and ticket to the attendant. The lady doesn’t even glance at it, she just scans the barcode lazily and looks past him, ready for the next person. 

The plane is smaller than he expected, just two narrow seats on either side per row. Making his way to the back, he works on taking slow, deep breaths as the person in front of him takes their sweet-ass time putting their bag in the compartment above their seat. Then, _finally,_ he reaches row 23 and plops down in his window seat. After setting his backpack on the floor between his legs, he immediately buckles in before updating Ingrid. _I did promise to frequently check-in, and the last thing I want is to see my cell blown up with a ton of worried messages after my flight._

**Felix:** On the plane

 **Ingrid:** TY for telling me! You ok?

 **Felix:** Gonna order a whiskey asap

 **Ingrid:** hmm.. Don’t drink too much. It’s expensive and you don’t want to be hammered when you’re trying to find baggage claim.

**Felix: 😐**

**Felix:** Just one then

Immediately after sending that text, there’s another ding.

 **Sylvain:** Or drink three at once and sleep the entire plane ride! 🙃

 **Felix:** 💯🥃🥃🥃

After switching the phone to airplane mode, he leans forward to dig around his bag for his headphones, the neck pillow he bought in the gift shop after he fled the restaurant (it has cat ears and whiskers sewed on it, which Felix found amusing), and gum. He read in some article that chewing gum can reduce cortisol levels to ease stress, and he decided to try anything to help settle his ever-increasing awareness that soon he’ll be 35,000 feet in the air.

During Felix’s rummaging, he senses his row-mate sitting next to him, who gave a low chuckle.

Instinctually, Felix glances over to see if there is something worth chuckling about, and quickly snaps his gaze away, ever so slowly leaning back in his seat.

_Ooooh noooo._

Thank the Goddess he hasn't popped gum in his mouth yet, for Felix is 100% certain he would’ve choked again.

Of all people to be on his way to the same place, on the same plane, at the same time, _in the same fucking row._

**_Stud._ **

Heat rises in Felix’s cheeks, his stomach performing an entire acrobatic routine. Bless that the blond has his eyes focused on his book again.

_Why did Stud laugh? Was he just thinking of something amusing, or did he recognize the creep who was gawking at him?_

He really wanted to text Sylvain right now and ask for advice, but he probably should keep his phone on airplane mode, right? Actually, scratch that. Texting him would be a terrible idea. All Syl would do is try to convince him to try to join the Mile High Club, _which absolutely fucking not._ Ingrid would get way too involved, desperately wanting him to make a friend so he won't be alone on the trip, _‘what if he lives in Fhirdiad? What if you hit it off? What if-’_ etcetera. Byleth wouldn’t respond to the text until tomorrow, or they’d send an unrelated gif to intentionally be unhelpful.

Remembering his headphones, he untangles the cord before putting the earbuds in and selecting his ‘chill the fuck out on the airplane’ playlist. Staring out the tiny window, for a while he watches the workers outside waive orange batons to direct other planes or the luggage carts speeding around, when his own aircraft starts to rumble.

A hand waves in his peripheral, and his eyes briefly snap to Stud before noticing a flight attendant is the one trying to catch his attention. He pulls an earbud out.

“Sir, please have your electronic device off for take-off,” the attendant instructs in an overly-friendly voice. “We will let you know when you can turn it on again.”

Nodding, he diligently obeys and fiddles with the cord. _Fuck, that was helping me stay calm._ Closing his eyes, his heart starts pounding again, his breathing is getting more unsteady as the plane makes its way to the runway. It’s when Felix’s hands tremble that the blond speaks.

“Not a fan of flying?”

Felix shakes his head, and the man hums contemplatively. “So, why are you going to Brigid?” He asks.

“Uhhh,” Felix replies, voice wavering. “I’ve never travelled outside of road-tripping around Fódlan, so I wanted to go somewhere different.” 

“I see, then have you ever flown before?” Stud asks thoughtfully.

“No,” Felix says under his breath.

“Tell me more about wanting to travel,” the man encourages. “Is there a reason you chose this week?”

Felix finally snaps his eyes open, peering into the blond’s stunning irises, which Felix decides are more sky blue- warmer and kinder than ice. He also finds the man's voice to be deep and smooth, like caramel.

“A few months ago a friend called me out on being bored and complaining too much. So, in the whiskey haze I was in, I spontaneously booked this trip. It’s my birthday in a few days, which is why I picked this week. Thought it might be nice to avoid snow on my birthday.”

Stud beams, and wow, that smile is bright like the damn sun, making a butterfly in Felix’s belly flutter its wings on top of the anxiety he’s already experiencing.

“Well, happy early birthday, uhh…” as Stud drawls the last word out, Felix understands what he’s searching for.

“I’m Felix.”

 _“Felix,”_ he closes his eyes and nods as he repeats the name, like he wanted to stamp it in his memory. “I’m Dima, it’s nice to meet you.” 

Placing his ticket in his book as a place saver, he tucks it away before reaching his tattooed arm out. 

Felix blushes as he takes it. “Nice to meet you, Dima. And I was looking at your tattoo earlier, by the way. I, uh, didn’t mean to stare. It’s just nicely done.” Felix gnaws on his cheek, what the fuck possessed him to bring that up?!

Chuckling, Dima turns his body and rolls his sleeve up to his shoulder. “I thought it was you. No worries, I figured it was the tattoo. You didn’t have to rush out. I have a friend in Fhirdiad who’s a professional tattoo artist. If you ever want one, I recommend Golden Tattoo Parlour on Talitean Way and 6th. Ask for the owner, Ignatz. Amazing artist, clearly.” 

Felix’s eyes widen. “I’ve gone there! My artist was- _oooh, what’s happening?!_ ” 

It felt as if someone thrust him back into his seat and kept pressure on his chest. Glancing out the window, the plane was on the runway and rapidly picking up speed. _Fast, this is very, very fast, oooh no._

“We’re just taking off, it’ll be over soon, it’s okay. We’re safe.” Dima continues calmly muttering the same sentiments until the worst part has passed, and the plane is flying smoothly instead of the rumble of take off.

“Congratulations,” Dima smirks. “You’ve survived your first take-off. Now it’s not so bad, huh? Look how pretty it is up here.”

Dima’s right, the clouds are white and fluffy, and Felix briefly imagines how cool it would be to touch them. Would they feel like feather pillows? _No, that’s stupid. It’d just be misty._ Felix’s breath catches, the sky is a radiant blue, like Dima’s eyes. 

_“Oh,_ I- well, thank you,” Dima awkwardly mutters. 

Felix raises an eyebrow at him. “What?”

“You just said my eyes were...” Dima blushes. 

Dropping his jaw, Felix freezes. _Noooo…_

Why today, on Valentine’s Day, _of all days,_ is he being extra fucking humilating?

Dima clears his throat. “You were saying you’ve been to Golden Tattoo Parlour, who was your artist?”

Still humiliated, but grateful for the mercy, Felix moves on. “I think her name is Bernie.”

“Bernie!” The blond exclaims, beaming again. “She’s excellent, too! And one of the best people you could meet, once you get past her anxious nature. But I’m biased, she’s my step-sister’s wife. They’re actually who I’m meeting in Brigid. We try to go somewhere every year. Are, uh, you meeting anyone there?”

“Nope. Solo trip,” Felix says, dropping his headphones and cell into his backpack.

“Oh, sorry,” Dima starts, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “Did you want to listen to your music?”

“Huh? No, conversation is better. Unless you want to keep reading?”

He waves his hand dismissively. “I’ve read that book so many times. I’m enjoying chatting with you.” 

Talking with Dima is surprisingly easy. Felix went on about the sword tattoo on his back, his friends, and his job as a fencing instructor. Dima is earning his masters degree to become a therapist, his step-sister is his only family, but he has a large group of friends who all sound hilarious. Felix orders a whiskey and ice, Dima gets a gin with a can of ginger ale. The flight attendants hand out little red boxes of wrapped chocolates, and noticing that Dima opens and eats one right away, gives him his box. 

“You don’t want your chocolate?” He asks, hopeful but hesitant. 

“I don’t like sweets,” Felix says with a half-shrug.

A crease appears between Dima’s brows. “You don’t? You ate that maraschino cherry though… those are pretty sweet.”

Felix takes his time sipping on the cheap whiskey, trying to take as long as possible to respond, hoping he could come up with an explanation other than the truth. But he couldn’t find one. “Well…” he mumbles. “I didn’t realize what I was doing... I was, er, _distracted.”_ Felix’s skin pleasantly tingles when he sees a pink flush appear on Dima’s cheeks. 

“Oh, well... I, uh, know the feeling…” He replies clumsily, taking another sip of his gin and ginger. “I kept re-reading the same two pages in the restaurant. Tried really hard to keep reading, but I was also… _distracted.”_ He pointedly gazes at Felix, his blush deepening in color. 

Warmth spreads through Felix, and his eyes follow Dima’s tongue as he quickly wets his lips.

**_BEEP!_ **

The sound snaps the two out of their ogling, and the pilot makes an announcement.

_“Passengers, we are descending and will reach Brigid soon, please buckle up and turn off all electronics. Cabin crew, please take your seats.”_

“Uh…” Dima utters, swiping his bangs to the side. “Just to warn you, sometimes the descent is shaky, too. But it’s ok.”

Dima leans his elbow slightly on the armrest between them. Noticing there is room for him, Felix rests his elbow behind Dima’s, and a jolt runs down his spine as they touch, skin-to-skin.

“Talking has helped immensely,” Felix says under his breath. “Thank you for doing that.”

Dima’s gaze slowly looks over Felix before locking eyes and smirking. “It’s been my pleasure.”

On the descent, Felix’s heart is thumping, but not because he’s afraid as the plane rumbles and occasionally jerks. The plane hitting the runway does make his breath catch, but that may be more due to Dima supportively resting his hand on Felix’s knee until both ends of the airplane hit the ground. The blond furled his long fingers when he took his hand off of Felix.

They continued chatting about ideas of what they’ll be doing in Brigid as they waited for everyone else to exit the plane. Then they were silent as they marched down the aisle, Felix happily accepting the opportunity to check out Dima’s broad shoulders.

Outside the gate, they had an awkward moment of _uh, do we walk together?_ With tittering laughs, they make their way to baggage claim. 

When both of them have their bags, Dima glances at Felix and takes a shaky breath. “Felix, umm, sorry if this seems forward... but... Would you want to meet up in Brigid? Uh, I’m sure Bernie and El, my step-sister, will want a night or two to themselves… maybe I can take you out for your birthday, if you don’t have any plans?”

“Yes, I’d like that,” Felix says immediately. “Give me your phone, I’ll send myself a text.”

When Felix hands Dima his phone back, the two smiling and blushing as they say goodbye, then they go their separate ways.

***

As Felix waits in line for a taxi, his cell phone dings.

**Dima:** Hey Felix. Just want to say I’m glad we met. I look forward to seeing you again.

 **Dima:** And whatever restaurant we go to, I’ll make sure they don’t give you cherries 😉

**Felix: 😐**

**Felix:** Well, since you’re apparently attractive and funny, it’s probably for the better 

**Dima:** I think you’re handsome too… and I hope you enjoy Brigid. We’ll talk soon. 

**Felix: 👍**

Smiling broadly and feeling excited, Felix gets into his taxi and thinks about how he’ll likely text Dima later that night.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Kudos & comments appreciated! <3
> 
> Twitter: [@HiStacyHere](https://twitter.com/HiStacyHere/)


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